Advent
by breeeliss
Summary: He tried to explain to her. Be the daughter I raised you to be. Be poised. Be demure. But he felt her words hit him in the chest. You never had your perfect Bei Fong family to begin with. You never will. Family fic. Pro-bending circuit submission.


**Title** : Advent

 **Rating:** K+

 **Words:** 3372

 **Summary:** He tried to explain to her. Be the daughter I raised you to be. Be poised. Be demure. But he felt her words hit him in the chest. You never had your perfect Bei Fong family to begin with. You never will. Family fic. Pro-bending circuit submission.

 **a/n:** Final submission for the Pro-Bending Circuit. **This one is going to base heavily on the Avatar comic "The Rift"** since the whole thing with Toph and her father that happened in the comic was too good to ignore. I tried my best to explain things so that it can be read without having to read the comic, but things will obviously make more sense if you're familiar with the plot. If you Google it, you can read "The Rift" for free online. PM if you want the links.

I think I used maybe 4 or so sentences of dialogue from the actual comic and threw them in there, just as a warning.

 **Task:**

 _Beginning (first line of the story):_ He ran about the room in a frenzy, doing everything and anything he could to distract himself.

 _End (last line of the story):_ His little girl had finally come home.

 _Object:_ a small wooden and worn toy boat

 **Prompts:**

(word) jungle

(emotion) happiness

(restriction) No use of the word "said"

 **Bonus:** Include the element Earth into the story

 **OOO**

 _Advent_

 **OOO**

He ran about the room in a frenzy, doing everything and anything he could to distract himself.

He shuffled papers, he rearranged books, he sat down, he stood back up, he stared out the window, he glared at the curtains — and none of it was helping. He couldn't remember the last time this much energy had flowed through his veins and prevented him from functioning. But he needed to do something with his hands lest he smash a window, and he needed to keep moving lest he stay in one place for too long and actually think long enough to convince himself that any of this was his fault.

It wasn't. It couldn't be. He'd deny it for as long as he could.

His wife had come to his study in tears earlier today, the tracks blushing her pretty cheeks red. He searched for affection and endearment in that color and couldn't find it. What he did find didn't please him. She was despairing. She was angry. She was a lot of things that he couldn't fix.

He suspected what this was — he had seen the dozens of bags and trunks of luggage in the foyer this morning after all — and this was probably her last stop. Her husband's office. To make a last plea? To hand over the jewelry he'd gifted her over the years? Perhaps she meant to just stare at him, let him struggle and flinch under her steely gaze until he understood why. He sat at his desk, permits and forms about his new business venture furled around him in a jungle of pleasant distraction.

Their family portrait was hidden under that mess somewhere.

His wife had looked at him and raised her chin, swallowing as if to prepare for a speech she had long practiced. "Look for her," was all that was spoken.

Surely this wasn't a time for jokes — it wasn't it certainly wasn't — but he and his daughter were actually more similar that he'd admit out loud, and sarcasm and humor were often defenses used against facing difficult questions. "If you'll recall, I did look for her. I spent a lot of gold looking for her. She doesn't want to be found."

"Neither would I," she scoffed. "If I was greeted with a lie and a metal cage to cart be back home like an _animal!_ " She shrieked the last word and let it reverberate through his ears. "Our daughter, Lao!"

"I can hardly tell what you want anymore," he explained calmly. "I've done what I can to cart that foolish girl home. She clearly insists on causing a ruckus and I've no intention of involving myself in her crude behavior."

She blinked at the harsh words and looked at him in disbelief, like he had just jumped atop his desk and began dancing and kicking all of his papers off of it. She clutched her shawl closer around her. "That _crude behavior_ you talk about," she began slowly, "that is what our daughter is. There is nothing crude about it. You choose to make it so. You know what you have to do to get our daughter back and you refuse to do it. It's why she's not here with me," she nearly moaned in agony. "It's why she won't come back. It's why she's forced to write us clipped letters because she feels she can't come home to us. _You_ did this! I want you to fix it."

He managed to stop his frantic rushing about the room and stop, remembering the screaming and the desperation from this morning. Poppy was gone, obviously. He was never quite adept and saying what she wanted to hear. She hadn't told him where she'd be going, and he was sure that it was meant to remain that way. Fine. Let her leave. There was no getting their daughter back. Their _daughter_ made a choice and had decided to live with that choice. He refused to let a stranger back into his home, and he had told his wife that much.

It seemed that nothing comforted him these days, however. Still he fussed. Still he paced. Still he tried valiantly to bring about reprieve and distraction.

 **OOO**

The refinery was a good decision.

Gaoling was filled with too many reminders. Reminders of Poppy. Reminders of Toph. So he had abandoned the estate and made his way to the outskirts of Yu Dao where he could finally plunge headlong into the project. A refinery that used the talents of all types of benders and even the talents of non-benders. It was a truly remarkable idea, one that was needed in a time of post-war confusion where nations were struggling to live in a state of peace they weren't yet used to. It was almost the perfect distraction.

He had told all of his partners and workers that he had no family. He was a lonely man who'd lost his wife and had no children. It wasn't a complete lie. He'd lost his wife, and as far as he was concerned, his daughter didn't exist. He'd act as if this were the truth for his own sanity and his own future.

Of course, that was never quite the case. The privacy of his office gave him many selfish freedoms. Like the family portrait that he kept in the middle of his desk and hid amongst his papers. Like the lotus brooch his wife loved to wear that he kept in his desk drawer. Like a small wooden and worn toy boat that Toph loved to play with and scuttle across the floor when she was barely a year old that he kept on his bookshelf and always stared at.

He always stared at that wooden toy when his mind was drifting elsewhere or when his eyes had nothing else to look at when the work was slow. It was a toy that he used to play with that he had decided to keep for his children when they grew. He wanted to give his child a part of him that they could always share, to keep them together and to keep them close.

He remembered Toph liking it a lot when she was very little. She couldn't see it, but her small hands had slid over the old, smooth wood and her face lit up in fascination. It was the one moment that Lao remembered truly feeling a connection with his daughter that he couldn't explain, and one that he didn't ever feel like sharing. It sparked a love for his daughter he couldn't explain. A happiness that was so foreign to him at the time.

Over the years, it seemed as if that connection was severed. Considering the secret that Toph had been harboring for years, it was no surprise they couldn't keep it.

 **OOO**

"...Father?"

Spirits, if that one word didn't just make his heart swell.

It was the first thing he remembered feeling and he couldn't stop his glee despite how badly he wanted to be cross with her. He immediately took everything in. She'd be around fifteen now, and she was stunning. A gorgeous girl with a strong bearing that wasn't regal but certainly wasn't fragile. Everything about her made him want to smile — her face, her hair, her eyes, her hands...he felt like a father again who had just noticed that his little girl had finally grown into something beyond what he could have ever imagined.

But the shock wore off almost as quickly as it had come and he remembered the torment of the last three years. He remembered his wife leaving him. He remembered the disappointment. He remembered the betrayal. All of a sudden, she looked to be the antithesis of everything he ever wanted from his family — his demure, noble, _united_ family. It was so easy to hold contempt towards her for starting the trend of leaving and running away.

So he denied her. In front of everyone. He had no family and this girl was not his daughter.

Her mouth cracked open in awe and he swore he felt his heart crack. Her eyes were always these cloudy, useless things that he always felt weren't good for much, but he hadn't realized that they were still capable of holding _emotion_. Betrayal didn't even begin to cover what the girl was probably feeling. She looked hurt, lost, confused, angry, and miserable all at the same time, and he saw each of those feelings flash across her eyes so quickly that Lao had to struggle to respond again.

He told them to escort the _confused_ young girl out of the refinery and retreated to his office.

The toy boat was still sitting on his shelf and he cursed that it was the first thing his eyes fell to when he entered the room because it didn't _mean_ anything anymore. They were broken. Their family was broken. He and Toph would never be on the same page.

But of course his body would never want to believe that, because when Toph barged into his office demanding answers and explanations, the elation returned when he saw her again. It was a happiness he couldn't explain and certainly one he couldn't show her. He needed to mend the rift between them first before he could ever admit such feelings.

He tried to explain to her. Be the daughter I raised you to be. Be demure. Be poised. Be obedient. Be noble. Be perfect. Be a Bei Fong. He just wanted to have his Bei Fong family back.

But she grit her teeth, blinked her sightless eyes, and assaulted him with truth and reason.

She smiled bitterly. "Daddy...how can you be so _blind?_ " she asked him in genuine confusion. "Your daughter isn't the quiet little girl you're picturing in your head. That girl was just an _act_ I put on to get you and Mom off my back. That girl never really existed."

He felt the meaning of that statement hit him in the chest. _You never had your perfect Bei Fong family to begin with. You never will. Accept that._

Toph smiled brightly and continued. "Your daughter — your _real_ daughter — may not be prim and proper...but she's become the greatest earthbender of all time! She trained the Avatar, and helped him end the hundred year war." Her eyes became imploring, and Lao stood floored at how much expression and emotion his little girl could convey with so little. "And now she's right here, standing in front of you. Don't you have anything to say? About any of that?"

No. He had nothing to say. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. Nothing redeeming. Nothing helpful. Nothing meaningful. Nothing that would fix anything.

Truly, he was in awe of her. Toph became this strong, independent woman that he hadn't expected to see. It wasn't what he raised her to be and it wasn't what he expected when he fashioned his family in his mind. But...there was so much to be happy about. She was alive. She was healthy. She was beautiful. She had done great things. He missed her. He was happy she was here. He wanted to embrace her and put kisses all over her face and tell her that she was loved and that he needed her and he just wanted them to be alright again.

He told her none of that.

She walked out of his life again.

 **OOO**

He had told Loban that mining the veins of iron ore would be a horrible idea. It was dangerous for the workers, and he wouldn't risk anyone's lives for the sake of this refinery.

Loban clearly felt differently, and Lao could still see Loban observing the veins of iron around them, as if he were figuring out how to continue on with the project after this debacle.

Lao sighed and felt his nerves begin to sing. If they even _survived_ this debacle. The entire mine had caved in and had trapped not only Lao, Loban, and his nephew Satoru, but had trapped his daughter and her friend.

His daughter, he repeated in his mind in wonder, who was currently keeping them alive and holding up hundreds of pounds of iron ore that were threatening to crush them all. Lao had of course heard rumors of an Earthbender who had developed the art of manipulating metal. It was a fantastical tale that Lao hadn't totally believed. But now he was seeing it with his own eyes, and he would have never thought that this prodigious Earthbender — the talent of this century — would be his very own daughter.

Toph was straining herself. Satoru was feeding her water and talking to her to keep her distracted from the pain of having to hold up so much of the iron ore just to keep them safe. They were waiting for help — Metalbenders from Toph's very own Metalbending Academy that would help her lift the weight off and evacuate them from the mine, and that alone was enough to floor Lao even further.

A prodigy Earthbender. A Metalbender. A Sifu not only to the Avatar but to aspiring Metalbenders all across the world. A war hero. A daughter. A precious, precious daughter, and he had gone on botched it thoroughly.

Toph had bared herself to him — not once but twice. He had nothing to say to it both times. Truly, how could he even dare? Perhaps Poppy had been right. Perhaps this had been entirely his fault.

She wasn't what he thought his daughter would be. When he was young and was waiting for the birth of his daughter, he'd imagined brokering off her marriage right about now. He'd imagined making arrangements with another noble family and working out specifics like her dowry, her trousseau, the date of the ceremony, the familial stability. But he looked at the young girl, dressed as an Earthbending master, and holding up the rock and metal threatening to crush him flat, and he realized how much that image didn't fit that little girl.

Such a little, little girl...and yet so strong and accomplished. No, his plans for her certainly wouldn't be appropriate anymore. Despite his thoughts, he couldn't delude himself. This wasn't a girl that was ever going to sit still, sit straight, be wrapped tight in gowns, and be married off for the good of her family.

Lao was being presented with the reality of her daughter once more. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight.

Truly, he was just so happy to see her. All those years without her, he thought he'd lost her for good.

Perhaps it was this happiness, perhaps it was the prospect of possibly not leaving this mine alive, but he knew he had to say something. She needed to hear _something_. He owed her the world, but he owed her at least this much.

It was hard for him to begin. He wasn't even sure what to call her anymore. Young Lady? Toph? His daughter? Where did they stand? Where did they end and where did they begin anymore? The truth was easier. The truth that he and his wife had fallen on hard times. The truth that Poppy felt it was his fault that they lost their daughter, and the truth that Lao personally believed this to be true after all.

"Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you," he told her, begging for the sincerity to show through. He needed her back. He must have her back. "I love you, my daughter. And I'm sorry, for everything."

Spirits bless her, Toph lit up like the sun when she heard that.

 **OOO**

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite so glorious," Lao had told her later once they'd escaped that mine. Toph had collapsed the moment they'd been rescued, exhaustion slamming into her and causing her to cripple to the ground. He'd carried her back to safety — a small bundle in his arms that reminded him of when she was first born, because she'd always been a tiny little thing.

She was on her back trying to get her breath when she smirked. "I couldn't believe it myself when I had first accomplished it, you know. But I realized, nothing is ever really separate from anything. Metal is refined Earth, and Earth is crude metal. Bending metal is much more natural than you think."

Lao nodded. "I...I can understand that," he admitted. "Two things may seem so different, but perhaps they aren't different at all. Therefore, they shouldn't be treated as such."

Toph knew what he was getting at, and she chuckled, softly and weakly like she was still out of breath. "Yeah. It's just like that."

Lao reached over and held one of his daughter's hands that was resting on her stomach. He squeezed her hand and smiled when he felt her squeeze back. "I'm starting to learn that," Lao explained. "I'm trying to learn that two opposing images can be more similar that one would immediately think." He paused and laughed thickly, feeling tears behind his eyes and in the back of his throat. "I'm just so...amazed by you," he told her softly. "I'm amazed at your power, I'm amazed at how much you've grown, and I'm amazed that something so glorious could have ever come from me."

Toph turned her head and rubbed a thumb on the back of her father's hand. "You don't give yourself enough credit, you know?" she muttered to him tiredly. "You screwed up with me and you screwed up with Mom, but you're fixing it. That's more than I had imagined would happen, to be honest," she admitted. "And anyway, it's obvious you're capable of great things, too. I mean look around you. Well, maybe not now. The refinery's probably a wreck right now. Sorry about that. But you know what I mean. You have a good thing here. You were a part of building a new future. This place is incredible. If you can mastermind this, I think you know more about differences and how to unify them than you think."

Lao paused and looked around him. Toph was right. The refinery was a mess right now, but it could be rebuilt. Good things that are broken can always be rebuilt. He nodded and smiled softly down at her, wishing she could see it, but hoping she could feel it. "Maybe I do."

Toph smirked and squeezed his hand again. "There's no 'maybe' about it. Trust me, I know quality when I see it. You can take my word for fact."

Lao laughed in agreement. "I suppose I'll have to heed that in the future. You know, it's remarkable. Sometimes I close my eyes and you sound like me when I was your age."

Toph chortled loudly after hearing that. "No kidding?"

"I never told you this, but your grandfather is bald from pulling out his hair over me," Lao confided. "I never kept anything clean, I drew the house staff sparse. He could never understand my sarcasm either, you know. Oh, he always told me it was like I spoke another language."

Toph was grinning brightly. "No way. You? Sarcastic? I can't even picture that."

"Did I ever tell you about the dinner my grandfather hosted with the Head of the Guo family when I was fourteen?" Lao asked her. "It was the debacle of the decade."

Toph turned on her side and propped herself up on her elbow. "A debacle, huh? Do tell."

Lao couldn't remember a time when he and Toph laughed together. Not a single time. But suddenly sharing silly stories with his daugher and making her laugh felt like a sweet little memory he wanted to bottle up and save for a rainy day. Nothing had felt this right in a very long time, and he decided that he wasn't going to let it go ever again. He had her back. They had so much fixing to do, and so much to talk about, but he finally had her back.

His little girl had finally come home.


End file.
